Annual Easter-time referral post

Just about every year I refer folks to a couple different blogs. One is humorous. This is the other one. Kittredge Cherry at Jesus in Love blog began her annual Passion of the Christ: Gay Vision posts today, featuring artwork that reimagines the Passion from a more contemporary, and queer, perspective.

Do. Not. Miss. This.

This year all 24 paintings in Douglas Blanchard's epic "Passion of the Christ" series will be featured, and the postings will go on for three weeks. If you've seen some of Blanchard's work in previous years at Jesus in Love, you know this is fabulous stuff. If you haven't seen it, why not?

Go. And return each day for the next one. You will be moved.

(I'll post the other referral closer to Holy Week...)

As promised, the sillier Easter link is for perennial favorite, The Passion of the Tchotchke, with some of the most spectacularly kitschy Easter 'art' you will ever see in one place. Enjoy!

What is Rob Bell?

Rob Bell is a theological tease.

That’s my conclusion, having read his new book, Love Wins: A Book about Heaven, Hell, and the Fate of Every Person Who Ever Lived - a book much talked about in the (religious) press and among all my facebook friends for the past month.

The online press and blogs were lively in the weeks leading up to the book’s release. Bell was, by turns, bid farewell by one of his fellow evangelicals for espousing universalism, and welcomed by others as the new heretic on the block for the same reason.

In recent years I’ve been interested in reading those who suddenly discover universalist theology – people like Carlton Pearson (Gospel of Inclusion) and Philip Gulley (If Grace Is True) – who have come to the conclusion that Love/God does indeed win. Could another evangelical megachurch pastor have reached the conclusions Pearson had? Um, no, not so much.

Bell’s not really espousing universalism. However, he is raising good and important questions. Unfortunately those questions are the bulk of the book. If this were a meal, it would be all appetizers with no main course. Tasty, with some interesting combinations, but ultimately unsatisfying.

I confess that Love Wins irritated me, even before I began reading it. Note to publishers: plastic dustjackets are uncomfortable to hold. Then, the book read like a mash-up of a series of sermons. Anyone who has read G. Robert Jacks’ works on homiletics will recognize the “written for the ear, not the eye” style. The style is very much “Gosh, wow – look at how amazing God is!” Questions are raised, few possibilities are discussed, fewer answers offered, piecing together arguments is impossible. I was hoping for a more logically consistent and theologically deeper work. My first words about the book, dashed off to a philosopher-friend of mine, were less than kind.

Then a good friend, who is a very liberal Christian minister, pointed out that I was probably not Rob Bell’s audience for this book. She’s probably right.

The “me” of thirty years ago would have welcomed Love Wins, when I was indeed asking many of the questions raised within it.

Questions like:
- How can a loving God condemn anyone to hell?
- Why do the evangelical Christians I know think they know how grace works, and that Roman Catholics won’t be in Heaven?
- What if someone just never had an opportunity to hear about Jesus? and...
- Why only Jesus? What about devout Buddhists, Muslims, Jews, animists, etc.?

But, I’m thirty years older, and I’ve answered those questions for myself. A loving God (if there is one) wouldn’t condemn anyone to hell. Whatever happens after this life, happens to all of us. I am a Unitarian Universalist.

Bell flirts here with universalism. He does seem to say that good people, like Gandhi (and, presumably, Mother Teresa) are not in hell. But I get confused in his discussion of Hell – on the one hand he seems to be saying that we experience heaven and hell right here on earth, and that it often seems that those most concerned with the afterlife are the least concerned with the hells people are enduring in this life. He still seems to be saying, though, that there will be a hell for some of us ‘later.’

In a later chapter, he writes the following, which rang a bell in my mind.

“There is an energy in the world, a spark, an electricity that everything is plugged into. The Greeks called it zoe, the mystics call it “Spirit,” and Obi-Wan called it “the Force. … This energy, spark, and electricity that pulses through all of creation sustains it, fuels it, and keeps it going. Growing, evolving, reproducing, making more.” (p. 144-145)

Sounds like what one of my seminary professors called “The Juice,” and what I understand as the creative process undergirding and permeating the universe. Bell channels The Juice here at times, but I think he pulls back from opening up and letting it flow freely because he’s still tied to orthodox Christianity.

One sign of this pulling back is when he talks about exclusivity and inclusivity, and he tries hard to be all-inclusive – but fails when he falls back on Jesus being The Way. This Jesus renders all other religions meaningless, and thus ends up not being very inclusive in my opinion. In the end, Bell falls back on a formula questioned earlier in the book. Describing his own ‘acceptance of Jesus’ moment from his childhood, he urgently admonishes his readers to trust, repent (which he claims means ‘be transformed’), and be saved. The more things change…

Rob Bell has said he’s not a universalist. I agree. But, dare I hope this is still the beginning of a longer conversation?

UPDATE: A friend of mine posted this on her facebook wall.

Reading Amos on My Way to Madison, Wisconsin

March 12, 2011
For the past two-plus weeks I have watched with disbelief the decline of the democratic process in my beloved home state of Wisconsin. Day after night after day, tens of thousands of people have been gathering, marching, chanting, preaching, and praying at the state capitol building. I’m going there myself, today.

Several of my colleagues have been there almost continuously, marching and speaking out as people of faith. I’ve been keeping close watch on events via mainstream and alternative media, and Facebook updates from colleagues and friends. I have been amazed, depressed, uplifted, moved to tears, and incredibly proud.

The words of the prophet Amos keep running through my mind. Amos, 8th Century BCE prophet, often thought to be a poor shepherd or goatherder, was more likely a fairly well-off citizen who owned livestock and employed shepherds or goatherders. Nonetheless, his familiarity with agriculture makes Amos a particularly appropriate prophet to turn to here, Wisconsin being the Dairy State and heavily agricultural. Amos was also an independent, not a member of the prophetic guild, not the son of a prophet, nor a priest. Again, appropriate for Wisconsin – a state which has always prided itself on its independent spirit and politics.

“Hear this, you that trample on the needy, and bring to ruin the poor of the land, saying, “When will the new moon be over so that we may sell grain; and the Sabbath, so that we may offer wheat for sale? We will make the ephah small and the shekel great, and practice deceit with false balances, buying the poor for silver and the needy for a pair of sandals, and selling the sweepings of the wheat.” The Lord has sworn by the pride of Jacob: Surely I will never forget any of their deeds. Shall not the land tremble on this account, and everyone mourn who lives in it, and all of it rise like the Nile, and be tossed about and sink again, like the Nile of Egypt?” Amos 8:4-8

If he were magically transported from 8th Century Israel to 21st Century Wisconsin, Amos would be with the protestors, crying “Shame, shame, shame” to the legislators and Gov. Walker. And his words here are apt, for what else has the governor and his cronies done but practiced ‘deceit with false balances?’ Let’s see, the governor took office with a budget surplus, but promptly converted that to a budget deficit by passing extra tax cuts for people who didn’t need them. Then he has the temerity to declare a budget crisis requiring immediate repair, saying our state is “broke.”

Deceit with false balances, definitely. Amos would call this governor out for that, and so do I.

Gov. Walker claims to be a Christian, yet insists on ignoring basic Christian values. Values like caring for the people – all the people. Instead of ensuring that the poorest of the poor have what they need, he is ‘selling the sweepings of wheat.’

For those of you who may not know, this refers to the ancient practice of leaving the fallen grain or fruit in the field after harvest, so the poor could glean what they could and hope to acquire enough food for sustenance. One proposal I’ve heard is to increase the co-pays for BadgerCare, the public assistance program providing health care for children. But, isn’t the point that this is health care for families who can’t pay? Selling sweepings of wheat, indeed.

“…for I was hungry and you gave me no food, I was thirsty and you gave me nothing to drink, I was a stranger and you did not welcome me, naked and you did not give me clothing sick and in prison and you did not visit me. …just as you did not do it to one of the least of these, you did not do it to me.” Matthew 25:42-45

Walker’s legislation hands sweeping powers over to the state health department to reduce or eliminate vital programs for the needy without following legislative processes or asking for public input. Programs the elderly, the disabled, the poor, and many, many children are dependent upon for health care. I’ve heard, though I’ve not seen it confirmed, that some nutrition programs may also be on the chopping block, again endangering those least able to advocate for themselves, the young and the poor. Instead of serving the people, the governor is planning on selling them out. I’m sure he expects to be well paid in return.

“Therefore because you trample on the poor and take from them levies of grain, you have built houses of hewn stone, but you shall not live in them; you have planted pleasant vineyards, but you shall not drink their wine.” Amos 5:11
(In other words: You’ve screwed the people out of what is rightfully theirs, you’ve made plans for a comfortable life with your ill-gotten gains, but you can kiss it good-bye.)

What is between Gov. Walker and his God, I can’t know. He certainly doesn’t seem to be reading the same Bible as me.

But this I know: the people of Wisconsin are well-educated (thank you, Wisconsin teachers!). We have a long memory and we are angry. This governor was elected by less than half the eligible voters, and many of us have already pledged to sign recall papers. We are patient, and we will be diligently working to recall him as soon as legally possible.

I pray the state can recover from this folly.

Sources:

Biblical quotes from The HarperCollins Study Bible, New Revised Standard Version.

Information on Amos from The Anchor Bible Dictionary.

Sources:

20 Lies and Counting told by Gov. Walker

Walker releases details of his budget repair bill

Budget bill foes say stealth vote broke open meetings law; challenges coming

Medicaid programs also a casualty of last night's surprise vote, angry advocates say

Disclosure: Yes, I support labor unions. It is because of collective bargaining that my family while I was growing up had health insurance, vacations, and a livable income. My late father was a proud UAW member, my brother is a Teamster, my daughter belongs to the Railway Workers' Union. The actions of this legislation go far beyond stripping public employees of their right to bargain collectively. God help us all.

A Believing Nonbeliever

I’ve written and re-written this blog post a few times. I will probably want to re-write it again after it’s posted.

So, what do I believe about God? Being a typical UU, I’ll start with what I don’t believe:

I don’t believe what I was taught in church about God.

I used to believe that God thought women were second best. I was interested in religion, and wanted to do more than babysit children in the nursery or teach Sunday school. But that was the role the church assigned to women – as well as being wives and mothers. Nothing wrong with being a wife, mother, or teaching Sunday school – I am a wife, a mother, and I’ve taught Sunday school. But that church said women couldn’t be ministers, or question the authority of the men who ran the church. They quoted scripture that said women were to be silent, and claimed it was God’s rule.

I used to believe that God would save some and condemn others to everlasting torment, for not believing in the right way – or in the right god. And this was the god who allegedly accepted the sacrifice of Jesus to atone for every wrong thing anyone would ever do.

I used to be scared of that God. Even after I left that church, I spent years worrying about the state of my soul, and where I would spend eternity. I worried about being left behind in the Rapture.

I don’t worry any more. I don’t know what happens after we die – but neither does anyone else with any certainty. But, I am a Unitarian UNIVERSALIST. Whatever comes after physical death will come for all of us – you, me, the Dalai Lama, and Fred Phelps – all of us. Whether I believe in one doctrine or another will not change this. I agree with Hosea Ballou, and Philip Gulley, that if the grace promised in the Christian scriptures is true, then we are all saved – whatever that means. And if it isn’t true, then we’re still all ending up at the same destination – whatever that may ultimately be.

A few years ago, I heard a song by Patty Larkin with this line: “I’m a believing nonbeliever.” That line intrigued me. A ‘believing nonbeliever’ felt like a good way to describe myself.

I believe in the holy. I believe that I am/we are part of a tapestry of existence that is larger than we know, maybe larger than we can know. I believe there is a creative process at work, creating, building, occasionally tearing down and rebuilding. We see the process at work molding and shaping this planet, and in the birth of new galaxies and black holes. I sometimes use ‘god-language’ to describe this process, even though I don’t believe in a personal deity who knows all, sees all, and manipulates events in real history.

The traditional God is omnibenevolent, omnipotent and omniscient. Well, really, I think that’s asking a bit much. Start with theodicy, explain how evil exists with an all-good, all-knowing, and all-powerful deity. It’s a lot easier if at least one of the omnis is eliminated.

I think another “omni” is more important. Whatever God may or may not be, God is omni-loving. God is love – that’s what the oldest member of a historically Universalist church told me she was taught. Everything she ever read in scripture or doctrine was tested against that simple dictum: God is love. What a concept: simple, elegant, universal, welcoming.

What do I believe about God?

For me, God is the creativity and love that flows through each of us, and through the universe, always present yet ever-changing. Holiness happens in our relationships and our connections with each other and the world. Whatever god may be is here and now, not far-away and later; whatever god may be has an open mind and heart, embracing all and rejecting none. Whatever god may be is bigger than any god yet imagined…

Here's another view, in song. Please note that some may find some of the images offensive - NSFW, for those who speak text...

Better Late Than Never... UU Salon, October Big Question

What is sacred to us?

When I asked this question on the UU Salon, I was wondering about Unitarian Universalist specific symbols and practices, and their appropriate use by non-UUs. I acknowledge that for each Unitarian Universalist there may be a different list of ‘sacred things.’ Many of us regard the web of nature to be sacred, others elevate human life to be most sacred. What I really wanted to think about, though was what was sacred in our faith tradition.

Because I like to go back to root meanings, I looked up a couple words – sacred and sacrament, which led me to the origin of those words. Here’s what I found:

Sacred: “…entitled to veneration or religious respect by association with divinity or divine things; pertaining to or connected with religion [e.g., sacred music, sacred books]… regarded with reverence…”

Sacrament:
“…something regarded as possessing a sacred character or mysterious significance; a sign, token, or symbol…” Word Origin: From the same entry for sacred, the origin is noted to be an obsolete verb ‘sacren,’ which means to make holy, related to the Latin ‘sacrare,’ which means to make sacred or consecrate. It’s also noted that some (but not all) scholars connect this to another root word, ‘saq,’ to bind or protect (e.g., sacred oaths).

From all of that, I get that the sacred is something real or symbolic, worthy of reverence or respect, which connects us to our faith tradition. This is congruent with what I’ve considered sacred to me as a Unitarian Universalist. I’ve often thought of lighting the chalice or the flower communion as sacramental or sacred acts of our faith.

In lighting the chalice, we remember our history - the flames in which Michael Servetus and others died for their beliefs, the communion cup the Hussites desired for all people, and the unquenchable fire of the human spirit. We mark the beginning of our worship, our time of shaping things of worth, by lighting the chalice – and mark its end by extinguishing the flame. By these acts, we mark the time as sacred.

A more direct connection to sacrament is the flower communion, created by Norbert Čapek for a Unitarian congregation comprised of former Catholics. I see this also as a sacred act – because we make it so, not because it has any salvific effect. Instead, this again is a sacrament to me because of how it connects us today with our history and our purpose. Every congregation I’ve been involved with that celebrates flower communion has made a point of ensuring there are enough flowers for all – this is an open and welcoming communion!

What I see behind all the rituals, though, is what I consider to be the sacred core of our faith.

Covenant. More than mere “rules,” our covenants are the bedrock of Unitarian Universalism. When a congregation joins the Unitarian Universalist Association, it enters a covenant with all other congregations. We covenant to ‘affirm and promote’ the principles stated in the UUA Bylaws. When an individual joins one of our congregations, they enter into a covenant (whether they know it or not). You see, usually there are rights and responsibilities of members stated in the local bylaws. By signing the membership book, the member is agreeing to affirm the local bylaws. And I believe members should take their rights and responsibilities seriously, covenantally staying in relationship with one another even in times of disagreement.

There are other covenants in Unitarian Universalism: the covenants between ministers and their congregations, the covenants ministers abide by to respect their colleagues’ relationships with congregations, and some congregations have special covenants around behavior or other issues. It is our covenants which define and shape our congregations, which hold us to accountability, which remind us of our highest aspirations in our lowest times. And, again – these covenants connect us to our history, and are made sacred by our actions.

I think it is right and good to remember that when one joins a Unitarian Universalist congregation, one is entering into a sacred covenant with the other members. It is also good to remember that our congregations are in covenant with each other, by virtue of being members of the same Association. The covenants that exist aren’t imposed from on high. They are created by human beings and entered into freely, for the benefit of mutual support. And that is a source of joy for me.

Congregational Polity - Salon Big Question

Has Unitarian Universalism outgrown congregational polity?

Since my blogging partner has asked for a definition: I understand congregational polity to mean that a local congregation (fellowship, society, church) holds the power of self-determination. This is why congregations vote on by-laws, on calling religious leaders, etc. Further, such bodies that choose to affiliate with the Unitarian Universalist Association (UUA), are also choosing to enter into a covenant with all other congregations so affiliated and with the UUA. The essential element of these covenants are to ‘walk together’ with others on the same path – to offer advice, counsel, and assistance. Such covenants bind us to considering carefully the best practices and/or rules when making local decisions. (I’m hoping I haven’t forgotten something essential, here. I promise you, I did pass polity class in seminary!)

From where I’ve been sitting for the past decade (and more), congregational polity has been misunderstood in much the same way Unitarian Universalism has. You know how some people are fond of saying being a UU means you can believe whatever you want? It’s been my experience that too many people believe that congregational polity means you can do whatever you want, and the heck with the Unitarian Universalist Association, rules, best practices, etc. Tweaking what I heard recently (on a related topic), many of us are “Unitarian – valuing the individual experience, opinion, and path” while fewer of us are “Universalist – recognizing the value of being members of, and accountable to, a faith community with common values and goals.”

In my experience there is widespread misunderstanding of the covenants which bind us, as members of a congregation to each other, as congregations to each other, and as member congregations of an association of congregations.

The whole point is that we are members of a group – not just a collection of individuals; our congregations are members of an association – not just a loose collection of separate churches/fellowships/societies. Too often I hear someone say something along the lines of “Well, I can believe/act however I want, and so can everyone else in this church.” We need to remember that, as individuals our faith communities exist to help us discern what beliefs are appropriate, given our shared values, and to determine what actions are grounded in our values.

As congregations, our faith communities have an obligation to each other and the larger association. I have seen sound and caring advice from people who are paid to apprise congregations of best practices ignored too often. Here again, I hear questions from congregants like “Who is the UUA (or the District) to tell us what to do?” Folks, the UUA is your association, with board members from every district – and members at large – elected by delegates to your General Assembly. Look beyond the walls of your local congregation and get involved!

Note: Slight correction: only the "at large" UUA Board Trustees are elected at GA. I don't know about other Districts, but our UUA Board Trustee is elected at our District Assembly.

I confess that my gut reaction to this month’s question was going to be “yes, mostly.” Then I read what my colleague, the Rev. Renee Zimelis Ruchotzke, has to say on the topic at her CERG Staff Blog. Now, I have to say "Maybe not."

I have to thank my colleague for reminding me of the beauty of our polity, as it’s easy to get bogged down in the petty stuff. I agree with her as far as the excellent grounding of our polity (as defined in the Cambridge Platform), and in how congregations have been re-invigorated by getting back to some of these basics. Go there and read what she wrote – it’s inspiring.

And I’m wondering how we manage this act of transformation as leaders. I’d like to see more congregations invigorated by a clearer understanding of our covenants, and the spirit of cooperation, rather than remain mired in the “we can do what we want” attitudes with which I’m too familiar.

That’s what I’ve got for now. Your mileage may vary, as always…

"Between the Evil and the Good"

What is the nature of evil?

That is the question posed at the UU Salon for September. It’s nearly the end of the month – and I guess I’m not very surprised that this question has drawn the fewest responses of our “Big Questions” so far. After all, many Unitarian Universalists claim to not believe evil exists – and many of us simply avoid the topic like the plague. We focus on the inherent worth and dignity of all people in our principles – and reject most discussion of difficult topics of sin and evil.

A little over two years ago I had the honor and privilege of sharing the pulpit with a colleague in a ‘dialog sermon’ on the topic of evil. Our main objective was to educate his congregation in the art of faithful conversations – discussing the difficult topics of faith – by way of demonstration. In his introduction to the topic, my colleague read the following; written in 1913, by Unitarian minister William Wallace Fenn:

“We must seriously question whether [this faith] can bear the weight of the tragedies of human experience. Does not its amiable faith in inherent goodness appear but a ghastly mockery when confronted by the facts of life.

And what of human sin? Here more than anywhere else, the weakness of Modern Liberal [religion] shows itself.

It may be conceded that traditional theology made too much of sin (and evil),
but surely that was better than to make light of it.”

My own seminary training required all M.Div. candidates to write a Constructive Theology paper – the equivalent of a master’s thesis. One of the required chapters had to deal with our theology of sin, evil, and suffering. This blog entry draws from both my constructive paper and my portion of that dialog sermon.

Let’s start with the notion of sin. I’ll say at the outset that I don’t agree with those who say humanity “fell,” and that we are the inheritors of the original sin of Adam and Eve. Nor do I believe that all sin is a sin against God. In my theology, the holy dwells in the connections between us. I don’t think of the divine as a “being,” but “God” or “the holy" happens in the interactions we have. My definition of sin is relational, and I hang it on our Unitarian Universalist concept of the interdependent web of all existence. As I understand it, we are all connected, and for me, holiness happens in those connections.

Sin is, therefore, an action or failure to act, that breaks a connection (or connections), between persons or between a person/persons and the holy, causing unnecessary suffering. There is sin that is very direct, a relational failure to treat each other as we should, ranging from lying about someone to the extremes of rape or murder. Obviously there is a difference in the suffering caused, but the sin is in breaking a connection between people. There is also complex, sometimes called indirect, sin, like those actions which contribute to systems of oppression and injustice. These sins are often corporate sins – sins committed by groups, breaking their inherent connection with other groups.

Evil for me is about human relationships and responsibility. If we look at it in a personal way, those acts that break connections between people, or destroy our connection to the holy, are truly evil acts. An obvious example would be murder, the destruction of a life being pretty high on my personal scale of evil actions. Torture - which isolates and then systematically destroys a person, physically, emotionally and spiritually is evil. Religious extremists who call for the destruction of other groups are advocating evil.

I think we can sin against other people, animals, the earth itself. A sin against another person breaks a connection between at least those two people, and maybe more. I’m thinking someone who tortures a prisoner, say one of the guards at Abu Ghraib, breaks more than the connection between herself and that other person, but also breaks connections in the form of covenants between groups of people. Causing deliberate pain to other animals also breaks a connection between us and our relations. Polluting the earth, stripping it of resources so nothing good can grow in huge areas, breaks our connection with a source of life.

As a parent I’m a fan of natural consequences, and I think many sins have natural consequences. Hit a puppy too many times and he will stop trusting you, will run from you, depriving you of the comfort and unconditional acceptance you might want from him. Break a connection with another person and you will get a similar consequence – loss of trust, loss of friendship, maybe even loss of personal freedom if the sin is bad enough. Destroy the earth, and ultimately all suffer from lack of resources, food, and so forth, which is awfully close to eternal damnation!

And then there is systemic evil. Evil is not a concept that can be applied directly to a natural event, such as a flood, for example. A flood may be destructive, the effects of a flood may be devastating, even tragic, but the flood itself has no destructive or evil intent. However, an unjust system which allows some classes of persons to recover relatively easily from the devastation of a flood while others continue to suffer over a long period of time is evil. Such a system separates people, causing further ruptures in the web of connections between them. We’ve seen a prime example of this in the aftermath of Hurricane Katrina. The Hurricane itself wasn’t evil – but the unequal response from a system that is supposed to help people recover – that is evil.

One need only turn on the evening news, or check news websites, to find examples of personal or systemic evil. Hardly a week goes by in my metropolitan area that I don’t hear of someone being murdered – or of a child being abused. One group or political party rails against another, with overly enthusiastic news “personalities” egging them on, sometimes resulting in the loss of an election because lies were believed – sometimes resulting in physical harm to someone, or some group. In the past couple of weeks, I’ve been struck by the number of suicides by young boys, bullied because they were (or were perceived to be) gay. Surely the bullying was evil, the bullies sinned, and so did the adults who refused to listen to the boys and/or their parents when the bullying was reported.

I don’t know what makes an individual person commit evil acts. I don’t know if anyone is “born evil.” I think it’s possible that some people really are missing some essential piece – the compassion gene, maybe – and that makes evil actions seem o.k. to them. And I know the Rev. William Schulz has asked the question: “In what sense can we defend the notion that a torturer is a person of ‘inherent worth and dignity’?” (What Torture's Taught Me, Berry Street Essay, 2006) I highly recommend reading this essay, if you’re ready to lose your rose-colored glasses and think seriously about our faith and our principles.

My colleague suggested fear as a motivator, that individuals and groups commit evil acts out of fear – fear of losing power, privilege, status, economic advantage… I suggest that evil (particular systemic evil) is also about hierarchy and control. Evil wants to draw lines in the sand, or circles to keep people out, keep things under control, and enforce a hierarchy – like some governments, some churches, some of us. Good erases the lines, opens the circles, shares control, and has no need of hierarchies.

That’s what I’ve got on the nature of evil, so far. I know we’re not all going to come to the same conclusions, but I think we Unitarian Universalists need to take off our rose-colored glasses and tackle these thorny topics seriously and theologically. I welcome further discussion!

And... if you were wondering about my title: